poly_chromatic | commander's log 002 | closed action;

Entry tags:

star trek: voyager - chakotay

commander's log 002 | closed action; | open voice;

[ he's decided to spend the day at the beach. the cross-gates have been quite useful and despite not knowing how they function and being very curious as to that exact question, he utilizes one to get to the northern beach. once there, he settles into a more secluded place where he, hopefully, won't be found very easily and takes out his lovely little city-phone. ]

For all of the City veterans still here... I was wondering how often these curses hit, if there's any way to stop them, and if there's a way to determine the probability of one affecting someone.

[ not counting harry. chakotay's expecting harry to get hit by curses more often than not because that's just the way harry's luck runs. poor ensign. ]

Whatever the case may be, I think it's time for me to start keeping track of how many curses I notice. I wonder if there's a running list of them somewhere?

[ once that's all taken care of, he settles back for another attempt at contacting his animal guide. he's been having a difficult time of it, since his medicine bundle is back on voyager, but he's slowly been trying to gather up things that might help him with it here. it's difficult and strange, but it just might work. so he begins quietly, murmuring the ancestral prayer and taking deep steadying breaths as his eyes slide closed and he focuses on the items in front of him. they're covered by pieces of cloth, wrapped up on the sand in front of him, as he'd rather not have some of them be seen, and some are simply tucked into his pockets. this is mostly an experiment and he has no idea that soon enough a friend will drop by for a visit. ]

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[ it's amazing and beautiful and like nothing he's ever seen before. the ethereal horse catches his attention immediately, not only because of its inherent beauty, but also because it brings with it a sense of purpose and protection. there's an uplifting of the spirits that pulls at his melancholy state, molding it, changing it, into something lighter of heart, something kinder and more pleasant. for a few moments, it's as though nothing matters but the veil of happiness that falls over them. it isn't a bright and controlling happiness, more a gentle one, but it's enough to banish his worries for a time.

and he doubts he'll ever be able to tell ginny how grateful he is for that. maybe someday he can ask -- suggest -- that she cast it around kathryn. spirits know kathryn could use something this uplifting right about now. if they had this on voyager, even on the holodeck, he doubts they would have nearly as many problems as they did and their captain would be able to relax for once. she rarely allows herself time off from work, even here, and he doesn't want to argue with her again over how she's dealing with voyager being lost in the delta quadrant. if he trusted anyone to talk to her about it, and knew anyone she would be willing to bend the temporal prime directive with, he would ask her to go to them, to at least allow herself to vent her worries to a person, rather than a piece of paper or the dead air of a personal log.

but that might be another talk for another day. his expression smooths out a bit as he watches the horse paw at the sand. for a moment, there's nothing to say, as conflicting emotions slowly scrawl their way across his face. obviously, something is bothering him, but the presence of the veil of happiness is banishing most of that worry. ]

It's lovely. I can see why something like this would come in handy. Is the pleasant feeling part of the spell?

Yeah.

[It's softly said, looking up at the horse that towers over her because she's sitting, and not for the first time she wishes she could touch it. She thinks she'd like to try riding a horse someday solely because of the form her Patronus takes and she wonders why this is her animal, will always wonder—because her father's is a weasel and that makes sense and Harry's stag is no riddle either, but a horse... Well, someday, maybe.]

Like I said, they're meant to shield us from some pretty terrible things. They're called Dementors. I think, with the end of the war, the Ministry'll banish them from being involved again, but they're awful creatures that feed off of human happiness. Patronuses are made of everything they want but they can't hurt them. [The horse tosses its mane and looks down at Ginny as if it knows she's talking about it and she smiles.] And we don't choose the form they take, either.

[As she reaches for the horse, as if it pet it, it lowers its head to her before dissipating into silver mist under her fingertips.]

I don't know why I've got a horse.

[ "the end of the war." such a simple phrase, and yet it brings to mind a wide variety of things. the death of his father, for instance, and chakotay's decision to resign his commission as a starfleet officer and join the maquis to fight in his father's place. he recalls the letter from home he received over a year ago, stating that the war wiped out the entirety of the maquis fleet, what little they were. ]

War is never pretty or nice, but it's good to see the beauty that can come from it.

[ he speaks of war as though he knows it, as though he understands the duties that bind one and the reasons someone might have to fight, and his face betrays that sympathy. he's been through a war of his own, would've been killed if he hadn't been whisked off to the delta quadrant. not for the first time does he wonder what ginny's life was like back home. ]

We don't choose the form our spirit guide takes, either. They choose what they believe suits us best, what we'll relate to and what shows the best and worst of us. I can't tell you what my animal guide is, but I might be able to guess at your Patronus form.

[ somehow talking about a patronus form doesn't seem as offensive as speaking about a private spirit guide. after all, everyone can see a patronus, so it isn't as intimate, and he somehow doubts that a spell can be offended. ]

[It's a nice thing to say but Ginny finds it hard to believe him or even agree. There's nothing beautiful about war, even with something like the Patronus, and she thinks of the fantastic display of magic when spells rained down on the barriers of the school, the flash of lights, the vicious grace that comes with a duel of wands. She has a feeling Chakotay wouldn't say such a thing so lightly and perhaps from someone else, Ginny might dismiss it as callous or ignorant, but she doubts that is the case here.

She settles for a shrug in response, suddenly a bit more subdued. It's been a year since the City pulled her back from the end of her world's war but it still feels as fresh as yesterday.]

That sounds about right. The form sort of... represents you, somehow. [She smiles briefly.] You want to guess? Go ahead.

[ he's stupidly optimistic sometimes. it's part of who he is and how he lives his life. even if he knows the horrors of war firsthand, he will always look on the bright side before he lets those horrors eat him up. the beauty of life is more important than dwelling in guilt and trauma, and said beauty can even help someone overcome everything else.

says the man who had to help calm down an angry half-klingon on more than one occasion. ]

I may not know much about you yet, but if I had to guess, I would say the horse emphasizes your spirit. They typically represent a wild and untamed aura, an unbroken spirit full of compassion, kindness, and a willingness to protect her fellows. She knows when to run and when to stand and fight. Her fellows are her family, chosen or biological, and she's willing to do everything she can to keep them safe.

[ he only has a sneaking suspicion about how accurate that assessment is in relation to ginny, but he knows the animals fairly well. maybe this will help her understand her patronus a little but more. ]

[She likes that. She doesn't know much about horses and she never had the opportunity to sit down with her family, boast about how she can manage a corporeal Patronus, have them all help pick apart what it could mean. Were it peacetime, perhaps; but there'd be no need to even know how to conjure one in the first place then. She doubts her family even knew, save for the twins and Ron, that she could manage such a complex spell in the first place—not until the battle, not until she had to do it to fend off the Dementors closing in.

Wild and untamed, unbroken. (Hazel, ten and a half inches, dragon heartstring, resilient.) Protecting family. It's spot-on. Almost.]

Sounds about right. [She's blushing a bit, touched, but interested and pleased as well. Except— ] But I never run.

[ at those words, he looks at her, really looks, as though she's giving him insight into the meat of who she is. he can tell that she is a little more like kathryn in that respect; where chakotay would fall back as needed, protect the crew at all costs, kathryn was the type to keep firing to protect them. and she would go down with the ship once everyone else was gone if she had to. ]

No. I don't suppose you would.

[ not that he's really going to judge her for that, but he's of the mind that at some point, a person has to know when to fight and when to run. each has its purpose and each can save lives. ]

[She doesn't waver under his gaze, simply lifts her chin a fraction more and lets him look, because she said she doesn't run and that means now, too. She knows the importance of understanding when to stand and fight and when to retreat and live to fight another day; she understands tactics and strategy because she plays Quidditch and she helped lead the DA and her impulsiveness was curbed by absolute need to keep people safe.

But when the final battle came, Ginny fought until it was over. Giving up was never an option, even when they all thought Harry was dead and hope was almost lost.]

I'm stubborn. It comes with the hair, I reckon.

[She smiles.]

And I think you're more in touch with your animal guide than I am with my Patronus if you could tell all that in a few weeks.

Edited 2013-08-28 02:04 (UTC)

We know each other very well.

[ ginny really is so much like kathryn, even down to lifting her chin at the sign of danger or threats rather than turn tail and run. it was funny, the type of person chakotay found himself drawn to. kathryn, b'elanna, and now ginny. to a certain extent, even seska had fit into that equation, though he tried desperately to forget her. ]

It comes with years of contact, years of study. I might not be as good at it as my father was, but I've learned. I think that's what life is all about. Don't you?

What, learning? Always learning because we'll never know everything? [She smiles briefly, thinks to the Ravenclaws she's befriended, the one she dated.] I think it can be, yeah. Maybe.

[She's a Gryffindor and a Weasley. She will always value knowledge because she's a clever witch, she and her brothers are all smart, but it isn't in the same way as those Sorted under the eagle. To Ginny, life is about living, to throw oneself into every moment with the greatest daring, the widest arms, to embrace it all and to do so without a second glance or thought. Some may call it recklessness and Ginny has learned to not let that rule her at all times, but it's an instinct that cannot be curbed—she wants to live, has fought to live, has fought for others to do it, too.]

But I think all fathers would be proud to hear that from their kids, that they're trying to be as good as them. Any parent, really.

Something like that. I like to learn everything I can. It makes life interesting for me.

[ her last statement brings a sort of sad smile to his face. she knows some of his story regarding his father. he's at least told her they were estranged until past the time of kolopak's death, until well past the time chakotay thought he could make up for what he'd chosen so long ago. to think his father might be proud of him, even after death, nearly brings a tear to his eye. ]

I hope you're right.

[ it's a soft admission, one he won't offer to many people -- in fact, kathryn might be the only other one he would ever say that to. ]

[She looks over him for a moment, brows knit. Then she reaches across the sand between them and pats his knee, smiling.]

I'm always right. Especially when it comes to family.

[A little cocky, yes, but the heart of it is clear.]

[ he offers her a grateful smile. whatever it is, cocky or otherwise, it means a lot to him and he hopes someday he'll be able to tell her that. ]

Now, then. D'you mind if I just sit with you for a bit?

[ he makes a sweeping motion with one hand as though to say "feel free." ]

Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?

[ if not, he's going to give this meditation thing another try. ]

[She shakes her head, a minute but gentle motion. She's actually content to just stay for a bit, enjoy the quiet and the company.]

[ in that case, he just gives her a gentle smile and closes his eyes. it won't be perfectly quiet, as he still has to murmur the ancestral prayer, but after that, it will be as quiet as he can make it. ]

A-koo-chee-moya. We are far from the sacred places of our grandfathers...

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commander's log 002 | closed action; | open voice;

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